frock-coat, his height and the fact that he was "a real foreigner" successfully withdrew every particle of attention from the Rev. John’s moving address. In all the church there were perhaps only three people for whom the ceremony had any other significance than that of an interesting show, and none of them were listening to the Rev. John. Mrs. Ingestre was praying for the future in which she was doomed to have no share. Wolff and Nora thanked God for the present, which was theirs and which seemed but a foretaste of the future. Both had forgotten the trials and disappointments of the last four months, or if they thought of them at all it was as of obstacles triumphantly surmounted. In Nora all that had grown hard and bitter softened into an all-embracing tenderness. Her love for her father and brother revived—even Delford and its inhabitants appeared to her in the beautiful light of farewell. She knew she was leaving everything, if not for ever, at least for ever as her home, and as she walked by her husband’s side down the narrow churchyard path her heart throbbed with a sudden pain. After all, it was England she was leaving—and she was English no longer! Then she looked up at Wolff, and their eyes met, and the pain had died as though at the touch of some mysterious healing hand. "How I love you!" she thought. At the door of her old home Frau von Arnim was the first to greet her. Perhaps the elder woman’s instinct had guessed the moment’s pain, for she took Nora in her arms and kissed her with an unusual tenderness. "We will try and make you happy in your new country," she whispered. "You must not be afraid." But Nora was no longer afraid, and her eyes were bright with a fearless confidence in the future as she returned the embrace. "I _am_ happy!" she said. "I have everything that I care for in the world."